I grew tired of ugly little Pol when I had bored her a few times, and would not have her again. Kitty I continued to see, she was a most amusing girl. Too young on the town to have learnt the tricks and cunning of a harlot, naturally frank and truthful, with some liking for me (for she looked forward to our voluptuous dallyings), she gave me for a long time much amusement, and I heard the incidents of her short life. She would jabber like a magpie about them when she knew me well, which she soon did, and began to look to me regularly for her supply of money.

She used directly she caught sight of me, to walk as fast as possible towards the house, and get in before me. She was in the room waiting and grinning when I got there. "Shall I take off my things?" "Yes." Off they went, and on to the bed the plump white-skinned little girl rolled whilst I undressed at leisure. "Open your legs Kit, and let's see your cunt." How she clutched my prick the moment I was by the side of her. It really was very nice.

She said, "I buy things to eat, I can't eat what mother gives us, she is poor, and works very hard, she'd give us more, but she can't; so I buys food, and gives the others what mother gives me, they don't know better,—if mother's there I eat some, sometimes we have only gruel and salt; if we have a fire we toast the bread, but I can't eat it if I am not dreadful hungry." "What do you like?" "Pies and sausage-rolls," said the girl smacking her lips and laughing, "oh! my eye ain't they prime,—oh!" "That's what you went gay for?" "I'm not gay," said she sulkily. "Well what you let men fuck you for." "Yes." "Sausage-rolls?" "Yes, meat-pies and pastry too."

"What did you let the first man do it to you for?" "I don't know, he came up to me and told me he'd give me some money, if I would go to a house with him,—he only wanted to talk with me, and I was then so hungry. He took me to No. 4, just opposite here, and did it to me." "What did he give you?" "Five shillings." "You had never had it before?" "Never." "I don't believe you." "I never had, I'm only fifteen and a little,—he met me in the Strand near where you did," she cried indignantly. "Did he hurt you?" "Yes, and made me bleed,—I was upset, and didn't think much about it till I got home and found my shemmy bloody. I washed it, and put it on again quite wet, so that mother mightn't know."

As she talked she would feel my cock, every now and then raise her head to look at it, fall back again as if satisfied, and go on feeling it and talking.

She was intensely curious about my prick, would lay and examine it for half-an-hour at a time silently. One day after feeling it she asked if she might do what she liked with it. Certainly. She moved on to her knees (we were both stark naked on the bed, and had fucked not long before), and began feeling it, skinning, then covering the tip, looking under the balls and smelling it. "How smooth and red it is," said she,—"Does that hurt?" and she rubbed her finger over the tip orifice. "A little,—wet your finger," She did. "Shall I wet it with my tongue?" "Do." She licked it, and bit by bit put it into her mouth, asking me occasionally if she hurt me. I laid amused with the sexual promptings of her nature. She took it out of her mouth, put it in again, then it got stiff, then she laughed. "Isn't it funny?" said she, "how smooth and red it is,—first it's flabby, then it's stiff,"—and she relinquished it, laying down across me, and contemplating it quite silently.

"Did you do that to the other gentleman?" I asked. "Oh! no, never,—I didn't think about it,—only one on em stopped long,"—and she told me about all of their doings. She could never make out but seven, though she always asserted there were eight who had had her before me.

I did not like either cock-sucking or cunt-licking at that epoch, and stopped Kitty who was bent on stiffening it with her mouth. She had no idea however of giving me a pleasure that way, it was simply curiosity and novelty. Often she did the same thing, indeed always had a quarter of an hour at it.

I saw her about twice a week, sometimes more, it was all she could manage "in dodging her mother." I gave her three and sixpence each time, which made her quite happy and contented, and it was a very economical pleasure to me. She learnt much from me, in six weeks blushed at nothing, and was impatient to be fucked. "Do that afterwards," would she say if I dallied long in the preliminaries, then quietly, "Oh! ain't it pleasure!" she added in an artless satisfied way. Then somehow she persuaded her mother that she might go out if fine for a little time in the afternoon, and she was let out occasionally when the mother was at home, but which rarely was the case; and then I saw the pretty lass almost daily, but always in the afternoon; and her impatience to have the pleasure of fucking became almost comical.



CHAPTER V.

Kitty's antecedents.—The fishmonger's.—Jim the shopman.— Betty the maid.—Females in bed.—Mutual curiosity.— Letchery and frigging.—Educated in coition.—Against the kitchen-wall.—Jim in bed.—Betty's cunt washed out.—A look in the basin.—Cousin Grace, and cousin Bob.—Bob on the spree.—A scuffle.—Topsy-turvy.—Arsy-versy.—Bob's semen.— A masturbating duet.—Caught in the act.—Kicked out.

I questioned her many a time, and put together here consecutively what she said. She was as much pleased to gossip about it as I was.

She was the daughter of a carpenter, had been kept at home to help her mother, till six months previously to my meeting her, when growing restive, and I dare say her animal vigor inciting her to go forth into the world, she went into a situation at a fishmonger's who wanted some girl to nurse a little child, his wife being ill.

I believed she had told me most things about herself from the time the doodle had first penetrated her: yet why had not such a big girl been put to earn her living? she said that her mother was always in the family way, or a child was ill, so she being the biggest helped at home.

But she had been in service, about all of which she told me one hot afternoon. Ice was then a luxury, they charged two pence extra for a bottle of gingerbeer iced. She was fond of gingerbeer, we had some iced with sherry, and lay on the bed drinking it as she told me her story bit by bit. This is an account of my doings, and not of tales told me by others, but I must tell her tale, for I believed every bit of it, and it is almost part of my own, and this is how it came out.

"If you never spent with a man till you did with me, you had frigged yourself." "I never did till the gal at the fishmonger's did it to me,—we slept together." "Then you had been in service?" "Only two months, I went to mind a little child."

The fishmonger was a little struggling tradesman, in a house with a shop on the ground-floor, and a little back-parlour, and kitchens, and a cellar below where they kept fish-baskets.

Over the shop were two rooms, one was the fishmonger's bed-room, and two bed-rooms above. The wife was confined to her bed, and her husband slept alone in the back-room which was usually the female servant's; so the servant was put into a bed on the top-floor. This maid cooked, cleaned, did everything, and had an eye as well to the shop if her Mistress was ill, and when Master and his man were out; but she could not mind the child as well. The fishmonger asked the carpenter if he knew of a strong steady lass, the carpenter named his own girl, and Kitty went for grub, lodging, and one and six a week. She was to sleep with the maid on the top-floor over the rooms where Master and Mistress slept. The servant's name was Betty.

The fishmonger drank. A young man named Jim went with him to market, and sometimes without him if he had been very drunk over night. Jim opened the shop, harnessed the horse and cart, and every night when the Master went to bed, Jim went to the underground kitchen, opened a cupboard, pulled down something called a bed, and slept there.

Jim was up first, and to bed but last, could not go to bed till the maid-of-all-work was out of the kitchen. Jim pissed in the sink, and made his own bed every morning as soon as he got up, which was done by turning it up somehow into the cupboard, and then he called up his Master and the maid. The privy was in the yard.

Kitty took charge of the child, and the first night as she was going to bed and took her things off Betty said, "Where is your night-gown?" "I ain't got none," said Kitty, "I sleep in my shemmy." Betty tossed up her head. Kitty cried. "Father's a poor man," said she, "but he's respectable, and though I sleeps in my shemmy I am very clean, I washes all over every day,—look at my legs and my neck,—but with my first week's wages I'll buy a night-gown."

"Never mind," said Betty, "you are clean, and you're fat,—your dad gives you lots of grub,—don't cry, I only said, 'where's your night-gown?'—Lord you are fat for your age!—how old did you say you were?—why what a big bum you've got for your age!"

Kitty had been staring at Betty, and the hair on the bottom of her belly. "She was so hairy," said Kitty to me, "I had never seen a woman naked before, and the hair on her belly made me look." "Say on her cunt Kitty." "Well on her cunt,—such lots, and so black,—I had seen gals' things, my cousins used to show me theirs, and I showed them mine to see how our hair was coming; but I did not think a woman could grow such a lot there."

It was a cold night, the girl and the woman were in bed. "Come closer, we will be warmer." Kitty got closer, then Bet began feeling Kitty. How smooth, how soft she was, how plump, and not quite fifteen?—what a bum,—why her thighs were quite large. "Oh! don't mind I want to warm my hand, between your thighs, put your hand between mine,—there,—you've just a little hair coming on your thing,—feel mine, it's like the hair on your head, isn't it?—I am only twenty-five,—but when you are twenty you will have as much Kitty. Your hand is cold, put it between my thighs, we will warm each other there. What a nice little thing your cunt is," said Betty feeling the little one's.

Soon the very first night they felt each other's flesh, Kitty wondering at the cunt and hair of the grown woman, Betty thinking perhaps of what I can only guess at. Kitty went to sleep with one hand between Betty's thighs, and awaking in the night felt Betty again who was asleep and snoring. She was a stout, big-built, fat-arsed, black-bristle-cunted woman (that is from Kitty's description), but she must have been older than she said, for the hair was thick and black in her armpits, and she had slight hair on her lips besides.

Betty got more free next night. "You've a sweetheart, and you let him feel this little thing,—the men call it cunt." Kitty said she had not, and had not been felt. "I know better, you let him put his cock up it." Kitty did not. "What never been fucked?—that is what men call it,—let me feel." "No." Betty felt Kitty's cunt, and hurt her. "Well I don't believe you have,—you are a stupid,—it's half the pleasure of life,—feel my cunt,—give me your hand,—there your fingers are on it,—oh! it don't hurt, you may feel right up."

Kitty was overwhelmed and ashamed. "I did not like it, but yet I felt so curious that I let my fingers go where she placed them, and I felt all about her thing." "Cunt Kitty." "Well about her cunt."

So gradually at night the elder led on the younger, by talking, feeling, and telling the little one all she knew, explaining the pleasures of fucking, the male mysteries, and male tastes and habits, although she was what was called respectable, and worked hard for her living as maid-of-all-work.

Betty pushed matters further. "I don't quite believe you are a maid,—let me look,—would you not like to look at me?—show me yours, I'll show you mine." Curiosity to see the cunt of a full-grown woman took possession of Kit.

On Sunday Jim had a holiday, the shop was shut, Allwork cooked the dinner, then the fishmonger had grog, and went to lie down, Betty went up to clean herself, Kitty and the child went up with her then Kitty showed her cunt, and Betty showed hers. "It was big, and such lots of hair,—I'd never seen one before," said Kitty, "she pulled it open wide, afterwards she pulled mine open, and we looked at each other over and over again. I'd seen my little sister's and cousin's, and two or three other gals' things, but they were all young; I'd never seen a big woman's."

Kitty getting bolder asked if she had ever let a man do it to her. Yes, she had been married, and knew all about it. "You never had a child?" "Never you little fool, there are lots of ways of stopping that,—oh! I love it, I wish I had a nice young man with a big prick here.—I wish you were a man." She took Kitty in her arms, and put her on the bed. "There, lay still on your back, open your legs, and I'll show you how a man gets on." Kitty did. Then she pulled Kitty on to her, and made her play the man. "There, move,—push your cunt up against mine,—up and down,—quick,—there, that's how the man moves when he is fucking till he spends,—then Lord! ain't he quiet!"

Within a week the experienced woman talking to the girl about fucking, had described its pleasures, explained its mysteries, acted and the mode and manner of the doing, until Kitty felt wild to see, feel, and act it for herself.

"Don't you ever frig yourself?" said Bet. "No." "You know what it is?" "Yes." Betty told of the pleasure a finger could bring her, but Kitty was not forward in sexual wants, and she had not frigged herself or known sexual pleasure in her cunt up to that time, though she had fingered herself.

"I'll frig you," said she. Kitty objected, but the talk of prick, of the delight of the male and female in feeling and rubbing each other upset Kitty, who was growing older, and whose animalism was perhaps rampant that night. She left a lovely sensation all over her as Bet rubbed her cunt, and she spent. Betty then took Kit's fingers, and rubbed her own cunt. "What with your fingers?" "Yes Kitty's fingers," and rubbed them on her clitoris, and frigged herself with them, Kit supposed.

That same night alying sleepless under the excitement of the novel pleasure whilst Allwork snored, Kitty frigged herself. The next night they frigged together. Betty said, "It's poor pleasure,—I likes a man, and you'll like a chap,—some one will fancy you soon,—you let him do it. When you have a great stiff cock up your cunt poking and poking, and poking away,—oh! it's delicious, and you won't like frigging after that."

One night the fishmonger was out, Kitty put the child to bed (he had the child to sleep in his bed usually). Bet and Kit were in the shop-parlour, and Jim in the shop. Betty went down to the kitchen, Jim soon afterwards told Kit to give an eye to the shop, and call him if wanted, and down he went. Kitty who had been sharpened in three weeks, who had seen Jim kissing Betty, and giving her funny pokes when he thought no one was looking, went to the kitchen-stairs, and going down a few steps slowly and peeping; saw Betty with her back up against the wall, Jim close up to her and his hands round her, and his bum moving in a funny way. She knew they were fucking, and fearful of being detected came softly into the shop again; but she made a noise. Up came Betty, the Master came home, and told Betty to go to bed, and Jim to shut up. Soon after Betty washed her cunt. That seems to have been an operation that Kitty never had seen her perform excepting on Sundays. Kitty then felt sure that she had caught Bet at the pleasant exercise, for she had heard how something thick and white came out of the man's cock, and how it was wise to wash the cunt out afterwards.

Betty seems to have been suspicious, for she began asking why she had come down the stairs. To call Jim, a customer having come—but he had gone away she replied. Betty was too clever to take that in. Did she see her, she asked. Kitty had seen her and Jim standing close up in front of her, "and he was moving about, and I told her," said Kitty.

Kitty on being pressed said she thought they were doing what Betty had said men and women did. "Fucking me?" "Yes." He was doing nothing of the sort, that she would swear; but they did it sometimes, for he was going to marry her soon, and after making Kitty promise not to tell, they went to sleep. "If you tell," said the knowing older one, "you will lose your place."

Next night Betty said, "You be quiet, Jim is going to marry me soon, only he don't wish it known, he is coming up when Master's asleep, and going to lay down by the side of me,—you sham to be asleep." Kitty remarked, "He can't lay here all night." No, when he had had his pleasure he would go. Kitty had fear come over her, but promised, then fell asleep, but awakened, and heard Jim say in a whisper, "She sleeps like a top." Then was a rustling and rumpling about, and Jim cried, "Oh! cunt," Betty said, "hush!" they kissed, sighed, and Jim crept softly away, Betty got out and washed her cunt in the dark, and found Kit was awake.

This went on for several nights, Betty had oiled the lock and hinges of the door, and when she heard the Master go up to bed, would softly open the door, and leave it ajar. When Jim had emptied his ballocks he would leave and close the door gently, Bet would light the candle, and wash her cunt. One night she said to Kitty, "Come and see the stuff that comes out of a man's prick." Kitty jumped out of bed, saw the seminal sediment that Betty had washed out of her, and stood looking at Jim's spendings at the bottom of the wash-stand basin. "Look how thick it is," said Bet. "We have no thick stuff, have we?" Then she felt it. "You are a beast," said Kit. "Wait till you have a sweetheart," said Bet.

"Why," said I to Kit, "I asked you before if you had seen any one frig, and you said only your cousin." "Yes," replied she, "my cousin Grace, you didn't ask me about any one else, but I did see a young man once do it to himself," added Kitty, "it was my cousin Bob."

I made her tell me all about that. She had cousins male and female, one named Grace her friend, and a cousin Bob, who used to go and see them; he was a favorite of Kitty's mother, a lad of sixteen, a carpenter. Grace must have been about a year older than Kitty.

Kitty's parents lived in two rooms, and had the right to use a wash-house. I am sure from all she said they were steady working-people. The mother went out sometimes charring, leaving Kitty at home to mind the children. She was useful at home, mended and made their linen. Grace often used to help her at needle-work.

Before Kit went to the fishmonger's she was at home one day mending, and Grace with her. Grace was always talking about what she knew, and had frigged herself before Kit. Kit had tried to frig, but got nothing but a pleasant sort of feeling, nothing approaching the luscious crisis that she felt when Betty tried her middle-finger on her clitoris.

A knock at the door. "Who is there?" "Bob." Kitty had been forbidden under pain of having her ears boxed, to let Bob or any one else in when her parents were out. "You can't come in," she cried. "Let's in for a minute, I've got something to tell you." "Tell me through the door." "No they will hear upstairs." "No." Bob began rapping a tune with his fists on the door. Grace said, "The lodgers will tell your mother." Bob who seems to have been a little fresh said, "Oh! won't you be sorry," and tramped downstairs.

A noise outside. "Why there he is again." "Is that you Bob?" No reply. "See if it's some one else." There was a shuffling outside. Grace got up and cautiously opened the door peeping. A big foot was thrust in, and she couldn't close it, then pushing the door wide open, and himself into the room comes Bob. Probably with the instinct of what might follow Kit had thrust the two children into the bed-room. Females are strange and cunning animals; even at an early age, cunt is always ready, always inciting, and preparing them for cock; knowing or unknowingly, whether for intrigue, or objectless, or for the delight of doing what is forbidden; cunt is always inciting the female to help the male, for "cock and cunt must come together," as poor Fred said.

Bob was making a half-holiday, had had enough beer to elevate him, and was of an age at which a prick has a habit of getting inconveniently stiff. If you can't afford to pay for cunt, or don't know a cunt which will take you up it for love, your prick is a restless article, which will insist on the buttocks pushing it somewhere or somehow, till the stiffness is taken out of it.

A frisky youth with restless cods was in the room with two girls, one of whom was also frisky, and the younger inquisitive. They got joking, he kissed them, they tickled him, till he threw himself on the floor, and rolled about as the girls tormented him, and thought they were getting the best of him. He suddenly caught hold of them both, pulled them on to the floor in a heap, one on the top of him one by his side, and holding one one way, and the second another way, managed to put his hand on to one's cunt, turned the other over, and lifting up her clothes slapped her naked backside; they struggling and crying out at the attack on their sacred privates, he fighting, overturning, and exposing the limbs of the lasses, until, as Kitty said, "he's seed all we'd got to be seen over and over again."

This quieted Kitty and Grace. When released they called him a blackguard, and told him to go out of their room. "I'll tell my mother," said Kitty. "Tell her," said Bob, "tell her you saw this," pulling out a stiff prick, "as stiff as yours," said Kitty, who was laying at the side of the bed feeling my cock about whilst telling me.

"We turned away, then turned round, it was still out, he had got it in his hand, and was grinning. Grace said, 'Let's go to the children', and burst out laughing, so did I, because she did." Kitty stopped her, saying, "Don't let the children see him, they may tell mother." After a time they turned round again, the fascination of the prick was on them, both wanted to see it. Grace winked at Kitty. "Go away Bob," said Grace, "you'll get Kitty's ears boxed if it's known you have come in." "Don't care," said Bob, "show me your cunts, and I will. Cocky, cunty, cocky, cunty," he sang out, "look here,—come and feel it."

"I don't know what you mean," said Grace turning round again. (Kitty said that Grace told her afterwards she wanted to see as much of his thing as she could.) "Show us the crack between your thighs." "You beast, I've a good mind to hit you," said Grace. "Come on," said he. "You go." "Feel my prick first." "I won't." "You Kitty." "I won't you beast." "But," said she, "I was curious like to feel it for all I said 'no' to him, and so was Grace."

Bob ran at Grace, and catching her, pulled up her clothes, and felt her; then running after Kit, he did the same, the whole three were yelling, Bob with his prick out promising to go if they felt him, they frightened of the mother coming home.

They were much agitated now, the children in the bed-room were crying at the row, and both girls threatening to call the lodger upstairs. "Let me," said he, "let me put my cock just on your naked thighs,—do, —do,—do,—only for a minute." "Shan't you beast." "Oh! I must do it," said Bob, "I must,—hooo," and then sitting down on a chair, Bob closed his eyes, frigged away, and saying, "Oh! it ought to be in your ck—ck—cunt," spent, the two girls looking at him and at the sperm jetting out on to the floor.

They stood looking, never uttered a word, and fear came over them lest Kitty's mother should come home, and catch him there with his cock out, and his sperm on the floor. "Go, there is a good young man,—mother will be home directly,—oh! that's her footstep,—run upstairs, and wait till she's in." Bob whose nervous system was I dare say a little shaken by his frig, buttoned up his trowsers, and ran out of the room. The girls locked the door and listened,—it was not the mother, then they began to talk.

"That's it on the floor,—that's what comes out of a man's cock when he puts it up a woman's thing," said Grace,—"it's that which gets a woman in the family way,—it's that which gives them both pleasure when they do it together, when his thing is up her thing."

Grace told all she knew, that when her mother was "lying in," she once peeped through a key-hole, and saw her father frig himself. They talked of the pleasure they had heard it gave the woman to have that warm injection up her. Grace frigged herself, Kitty tried but got no pleasure, they sat opposite each other on chairs, Bob's spunk still on the floor. That was the only time she had ever seen spunk till she saw Jim's in the wash-hand basin. "Should you like to see mine Kitty?" "Shouldn't I!" said she. "You shall some day,"—and one day she frigged me.

Kitty was quite artless when she told me this, she had taken a liking to me, though I did not then know it, and was delighted to tell me all, it seemed quite a relief to her to do so. She had never spoken to any one else about it. To a man? she should think not,—it was not likely, and though I asked her often and often about it at times she never varied the account. I believed it implicitly, and that is why I narrate it here.

Several nights Jim served Betty so, till one night Kitty sneezed. "The girl's awake," said Jim. "Who is that?" said Kitty shamming, though she knew full well. "It's Jim,—you won't tell, will you?" said Betty. "I have told her you are going to marry me,—have I not Kit?" Jim went on tailing his mistress, but now that he knew Kit was awake he put out his hand and felt Kitty's bum whilst fucking. "Did you tell Betty that?" said I. "No," said Kit laughing.

Next night Betty who seems to have taken delight in debauching Kit, made her feel Jim's prick, she pulled her hand to it. "I thought I liked to feel, but I shammed that I did not." "Was it big?" "It seemed bigger than yours, but I didn't see it."

This went on for a fortnight or so, Kitty feeling always afraid that they would be found out, and so it came to pass. Illicit fucking in a house not your own is sure to bring trouble.

The Mistress' sister came to nurse her, and slept in her room. Betty said the sister gave a lot of trouble, and was always poking her nose where she had not business to poke it. Jim did not come up for one or two nights, he had heard some one moving either in the Master's, or in the sick woman's room. Kitty was glad of it. Jim I suppose at last randied out of his prudence one night, and Betty reckless for want of fucking, told him to come, and up he came. Then a violent knock at the door came just as he was fucking Betty.

"Who is that?" "Me." "Wait a minute sir." "Open it, or I will break the door open." "Wait sir, I'm not dressed." In came the door with a crash. Jim was just by the bed, Kitty standing by Betty, for both got up. At the door was the Master and his sister-in-law. "You damned whoring bitch," said the Master to Betty, "at day-light out you go from my house."

The sister-in-law turned down the bed, looked at it, and then at Kitty. "Please Maam it's no fault of mine," said Kit. "You dirty little hussy, why did you not tell what was going on,—your father shall hear of this." "Dress yourself," said the fishmonger to Betty. "Leave them alone till the morning," said the sister-in-law,"—and both left the room. Jim half-dressed, without speaking a word, had crept downstairs whilst the talk was going on. The Master did not speak to him at all.

"They will sack us both," said Betty. Kitty began to cry. "You are a fool, there are lots of places. I hope old Vinegar-Chops liked the look of it," said Betty lifting up the towel (there were the drippings from Betty's cunt on it),—"I dare say the sour-faced beast knows what it is,—-don't you cry, you will get a living if your father does turn you out, any girl can so long as she has a good face, and something warm between her thighs." That was Betty's comfort to Kitty.

After breakfast the Master put Betty outside the door, Kitty's mother was sent for, who boxed her ears all the way home, and the father knocked her down when he came home. "If I thought you'd turn a whore," said he, "I'd murder you." She told her mother the truth entirely, but only got her ears boxed still more,—she should have told her Master, the mother said. After this she was again kept at home, a short time after her father died, her mother changed her quarters, keeping her indoors to take care of the children, and had no idea that her daughter was getting fucked to enable her to buy sausage-rolls, as well as for the pleasure of having a male.



CHAPTER VI.

Sausage-rolls, and consequences.—Kitty's home.—The little ones.—A saucy cabman.—Catamenia.—Fucking economies.— Changing money.—Pol and the bargee.—Kit implicated.—A black eye and bruised rump.—-A little boy's cock.— Preparation for travel.—'Kit's regret.—Bessie in tears.— Amusements abroad.—Home again.—Kitty a strumpet.—An evening at B.w Street.—Kitty's eight months doings.

One day I took some sausage-rolls to the baudy house, she clawed hold of one directly. "Ain't they prime!" said she, and never ceased till she had finished them all—such a lot,—then she turned pale. "I must go home," she said. "Why?" She began putting on her things. "What is your hurry?" "I can't wait." "Are you ill?" "Yes,—yes,—I must go." "Then I won't pay you." "I'm not well." "How,—you want to go to the privy!" "I do," said the girl hanging her head. I rang the bell, told the woman to show the lass where to ease herself. When she came back I could not get her to look me in the face, and thinking of her operation gave me a distaste for her that day, so I let her go without doing anything. Ridiculous that of course, but I tell things just as they occurred.

When it rained, and she could not meet me, how angry she was. "If I buy an umbrella mother will wonder where I got it." Once she nearly got wet through, and I did not see her that time, because I did not expect her to be out.

She told me where she lived, and I arranged that if it rained I would go to the front of the house in a cab. I did that once only, and the cabman insolently demanded about five times his fare when I got down at E——r Street, saying I had enticed a young girl into the cab. "Yer haught to be glad to be let orf with ten bob," said cabby, "think yerself lucky a peeler don't drop on you for taking a young gal like that,—yah! you're a swell, ain't yer?—yah!—yah!—poop!"—and off he drove.

She began to deplore her poor dress, bought a pair of white stockings, and I kept them for her, because she was afraid of taking them home. "Oh! ain't I kept under," said she, "I hate it,—I have a good mind to bolt." "Then you will turn gay." "Well I would like to dress nice, and do as I like, instead of minding children and working." I persuaded her not.

"Have you had no other man but me for the last two months?" "Only one," she said, "but I'm never out if it rains, and I can't get out of nights cause of mother, and I wash and mend,—so how can I?" "I'll go and ask for some one else at your room, to see if you're in or not." "Do,—if I don't open the door, mother will, on Monday I'll take the brats into the Waterloo road for a walk." She did, and I saw her. How short her clothes were! a carman as he passed stooped down, and gave her legs a pinch. Her mother was at home.

The girl grew fast, each week she seemed bigger than the week previously, the sausage-rolls agreed with her, the hair on her cunt lengthened,—she was so pleased when I remarked it,—her desire was to have as much hair on her quim as Betty had. Then she began to get heavy, dull, and drooping. One day I had her on the side of the bed, just for variety sake, for sometimes I found it delightful to see my prick up to its roots in her, and the next instant its tip. Her cunt felt very wet, looking at my half-uncunted prick it was covered with blood. I pulled it out, a red stream followed running all over her chemise. I had never seen such a sight before when fucking, and only once I think since, though I have poked women in that state.

"What is the matter?" said I startled for the moment, "you're poorly?"

"Oh!" cried out the girl, "I must go to mother,—ohl let me go." I tried to comfort her, she took no notice of me, but dressed and ran out of the house quickly, white with terror and without her money. That night I had Brighton Bessie, and told her about it. Bessie said the dirty little bitch ought to be flogged by the hangman; if she had her way all such young bitches should be sent to prison, and the men who had them ought to be punished as well.

Kit's first poorliness had come on, that accounted for her dullness, she had no idea of what was taking place in her, her mother had not warned her. Of course, the girl knew of the ailment common to her sex, but her monthlies had taken her by surprise. I never knew a girl more unaffectedly modest than Kitty was the next time she met me after her accident, as we called it.

Said she one day, "Give me a sovereign for this silver (savings out of the money I had given her), I don't know where to put it, it jingles in my pocket,—I am afraid of dropping it, and mother finding it out."

She had put it in a crack between the skirting and the inside of a cupboard lining as near as I could make out, until it was a pound's worth. "What a pity I can't buy some nice clothes, is it not?" said she. Poor Kitty was amusing, but I saw she was brewing mischief after she had had her monthlies, or was what she called "a full woman." Several times as she took my money she said it was no good to her, as she could only buy things to eat. She was getting restless. When I told her I should be in the Strand one day, if it were not wet. "Oh! do come, if it's wet or not,—I will meet you." "But your mother?" "Don't care,—if she says anything I'll tell her I'll run away."

Said she one day, "Hasn't Pol got it? her mother has nearly murdered her,—oh! Lor she is bruised all over." Then she told me that the little dark girl I had had was caught in the privy with a man,—"oh! such a big un, he is much taller than you,—she was standing on the privy-seat with her legs wide open, and he was trying to do it to her." The mother had suspected, had the little imp watched, and caught the man in the act. "How he could do it I don't know," said Kit, "but he is a bargeman,—such a big man!—and the little beast stood on the privy-seat too." Kitty was scandalized at that.

It was some days before I saw her again, then she was slovenly and had a black eye, and began to cry. "It's mother," she sobbed, "look here." She pulled off her things, and showed me wales and bruises. "Mother did it," said she sobbing, "my bottom's bruised,—she held me down, and hit me with a brush,—look," said Kitty turning up her lily-white arse for me to see.

Her young friend who had not long before had my prick up her cunt, and then the bargeman's, had sought to excuse herself by saying Kitty was as bad. Mother told mother, Kitty was battered by her mother, and had been locked up, there had been row after row, till Kitty would not eat, nor wash, nor mend,—she fought her mother, she threatened to run away, and to turn gay. Said the mother, "Your father always said you would, he would turn round in his grave if he knew what you are saying.

"I made my brother's cock stiff," said she one day as she was playing what we called cherry-bob with my prick, i.e. taking the tip in her mouth when it was limp, and shooting it out again, just as you see children do with cherries. "Your little brother?" "Yes,—I washed him, pulled it backwards and forwards, as if I were washing him, so that he should not know what I was about." "Did it get stiff?" "Quite, and he seemed to like it," said she, "he asked me to go on doing it."

During all this time I had occasionally seen Bessie, for a youthful cunt never did give me full physical enjoyment, nor fetch me like a full-grown one, although as an occasional letch it was delicious. After her monthlies had arranged themselves I fancied Kitty was more luscious, and her discharge more copious, yet I often used to think of the spanking posteriors and full crisp-haired cunt of Bessie whilst operating on Kit. A light-haired quim I also never liked, it was the artlessness, frankness, and freshness of Kitty which kept me to her so long.

I was going abroad. When I told Kitty this she broke into tears. "Oh! what shall I do!—don't go," said she. The little lass was fond of me; a thing I never had dreamed of. She promised me to go to service, and leave off fucking; but she never did.

Then I told Bessie, and she began to cry, and said, "It's always the way,—directly I like a man I lose him." I thought she was shamming, but the last night I had her, she would take no money, said if I gave it to her, she would throw it into the streets.

Glad to be from England, alone,—alone, I hoped to be sent to———, but got no further than———. There I had women enough. All women there were examined by medical men weekly, just as they are at———, and many a fine Spanish woman, and coarse but well-built English woman I had for half-a-crown a piece. I was recalled after seven months, and within a few days was in the Strand, but saw no Kitty until one night in early Summer. "Oh! it's you,—I'm so glad," said a female. It was Kitty, delighted. I did not know her for the instant, but in ten minutes we were fucking. How glad she was to see me; she was a well grown young woman, and lovely, her breasts were well developed, her calves and bum as well, although she was not seventeen.

She had quarrelled with her mother, left, and set up as harlot. It was wonderful what harlotry had done in giving her taste in dress, deportment, style of walking, and even in language. She had learned the value of her cunt, it was no longer three and six, but twenty shillings. "I don't want your money," said she, "let's talk of old times." We spent several evenings together. One man almost kept her, she thought he was going to keep her altogether, and hoped so.

I had taken her to the house in B.w Street, quietly there we talked all things over; we laughed over the affair of Pol and the coal-heaver, the sausage-rolls, the lost ten shillings, the afternoon her poorliness came on. "So you are gay,—do you like the life?" She really did, got lots of money, and now kept her mother who had been disabled by rheumatic fever. I saw her daily for a week or two afterwards, and we fucked to our hearts' content. Her motte was delicately hairy now, and of dark golden colour, slightly brownish. Then I went to the sea-side. When I came back to London, looking for her everywhere, I could not find her, and though I longed for her very much, was obliged to render myself happy with others.

To complete her history I must go forward two or three years when I had been madly in love with a gay woman as I shall tell, but had quarrelled with her for presuming on my love, and resolutely abstained from seeing her, doing however great violence to my affection and inclination. I used to go to the baudy house in J...s Street (not yet mentioned), and cry to its Mistress who would ask me to let her send to the lady of my affection (Miss M...s),—but of this more presently.

After reading over this part of my narrative relating to Kitty written full thirty years ago, I add these few words.

My secret life was written for my own pleasure, and to be a narrative of what I myself saw and did, and nothing else. I have pretty well adhered to that, but my fun with Kitty took place within a few years after I began to write, and describe the amatory episodes as leisure inclined me, and as they seemed to me unusually amusing or illustrative. I arranged them in order afterwards. Nothing at that time had been so piquant in my acquaintance with harlots as Kitty's had been. I had not then had much to do with lasses as young as she was, the novelty therefore I suppose made me write out her narrative intermixed with my own, at the length it has reached.

Besides Kitty was really quite original, her freshness, frankness, and truthfulness impressed me much, and after much experience since in the ways of frail ones, I believe now that what she told me was mainly true, and am sure she was delighted to get a confident in me, to whom she could unbosom herself unreservedly.



CHAPTER VII.

Brighton Bessie.—Change irresistable.—Bessie in quod.— Lewd effects.—Spooning.—Her home.—Her cabman.— Reflexions.—Two years after.—Five years later on.—The mouse's promenade.—Bessie disappears.

I met in the Strand one night Bessie, who put her arms round me. I repulsed her, she saw her mistake, and followed me to a baudy house. Inside she began kissing me excitedly, and said she was so glad to see me back, that she did not know what she was about. It was not our usual house, I was in a hurry, so after I had fucked her was going away. "What one fuck only!—you have not had me for a year nearly,—I'm damned if you go till you have given me another,—that dear old prick, I've thought of it fifty times when I have been poked." So I fucked her again, and afterwards resumed seeing her, for she was much to my taste sexually. I had many voluptuous amusements with her which she liked and invited, although I have no recollection of playing any of those curious erotic tricks which gratified me later on in life, nice attitudes being then for the most part enough for me. My balls were running over with sperm in those days, and if I could control myself for a few minutes when my prick was stiff, it was as much as I could do. Bessie was full-blooded, and loved to take her fucking with me, kissing me furiously as her pleasure came on. We used again to pass hours at the house in B.w Street, reading, drinking, talking, and copulating at intervals.

Yet I went after other women for all that, for fresh cunt was irresistable. Once when I had been away I missed her for a few days, then I saw her coming out of a public-house. "Oh! I'm so glad,—I've been locked up,—it's a damned shame," she cried out, "I was marched off without having said a word by a police-man,—blast him!—and all because I would not let the bugger fuck me one night up in ——— Street,—I'd never let a policeman touch me,—damn them all." She spoke loud to a man and two or three sympathizing women, a mob began to gather round her, so noisy was she.

I turned as quickly as I could up a side-street, she following me. "Oh! come my dear, come,—how glad I am to see you,—I did nothing but think of you whilst I was locked up,—oh! God I'm dying for a fuck,—a whole fortnight I've not had it, and I did nothing but think of you when I frigged myself." There was a roar of laughter from half-a-dozen women who had followed her. "Shut up," said some one. "Ain't she a letting out!" said another. "Ain't you ashamed of yourself?" said a third. "It's one of her men," said another. "She is a nice woman," said some one else. "It was a damned shame," said another. "I know him," said a voice, "he wants every woman in the Strand, and if he don't get them he walks them off." "Yes the bugger." "She is just out." "Yes, and he quodded Mary Summers last night." "And he is a married man with a large family,"—and so on. I felt overwhelmed, and inclined to run away. She turned into the first house which had a door open, and I was glad when the friendly red-curtained door closed behind me, she galloping upstairs in front of me, showing her fat calves. I followed Bessie into a bed-room.

"Five shillings," said the woman to me. "It's all right,—you go,—he's an old friend of mine,—don't bother," said Bessie pushing the servant out of the room, and slamming tie door, then throwing her bonnet on a chair she caught hold of me, gluing her lips to mine, feeling at my trowsers front she cried out, "Let's fuck,—come and fuck me,—I'm dying for you,—a fuck from you,—oh! put your prick up." She had got it out, threw herself on the bed opening her thighs wide, and showing her cuntal beauties, calling on me to fuck her. I mounted her immediately, it was impossible to withstand her randy impetuousity; contagious lewdness coursed through my veins.

"Oh! my God," said she as my prick drove home, "I'm coming,—oh! my God,—fuck,—fuck,—oh! I'm spending,—oh! my darling,—fuck,—spend,—oh!—oooh!" I never had a woman in a higher state of randiness, she would not let me go till I had fully eased her passions, she lavished expressions of love and tenderness on me. "Don't pull it out,—there dear, there,—lay still on me, I'll keep it up, it will be stiff again,—there it's stiff now." I stopped with her some hours. A policeman on the beat she said, had taken a fancy to her, had asked her to let him do it to her up against the dark wall at the back of E.... r H.. l. She would not, he threatened, still she refused, so he took her to the station one night on the plea of her annoying gentlemen, and the magistrate gave her a fortnight in prison. She had come out that very day, and was rather tight.

In a few weeks Bessie got more and more friendly. I was the first to leave, and she to ask what was my hurry. When I thought I had been detaining her too long for my moderate compliment, she would say, "Oh! never mind, I'll make ten shillings do,—I'm not in debt,—before the theatres are over I dare say I'll get engaged." It was impossible to avoid seeing she was getting affectionate. She would sit or lay talking, feeling, or kissing me for hours, whilst her expressions of pleasure when I was stirring up her vitals equalled those of any woman who has ever loved me or enjoyed my embraces.

One night I was charged twice for the room, for stopping long, and said something about not being able to afford it. That brought forth a proposition, one of the most curious I ever had in my life.

Said she, "It's a lot of money to spend on the rooms,—come to my rooms; they would be too humble for you, but they are clean and nice,—drop me a line, and I will always be at home,—and you would be more comfortable than at these houses, and have nothing to pay." Then after hesitation, and as if reflecting, she said she lived in the New North road where she had either a small house or rooms in one, I don't quite recollect which. "It's paid for by a friend of mine, he gives me ten shillings a week. Now don't think little of me because I tell you this,—he is only a cabman, he sleeps with me nearly always, he's a nice clean, steady man, and behaves well to me; but I don't like him since I've known you. You can come when you like, and sleep with me when you like,—I'll give him up, he shall never come near me again, and I'll always be there for you,—you will see what a large comfortable bed I've got,—but you must pay for the rooms, I must feel sure of a roof over me,—I don't care about anything else,—then you can see me when you like, give me what you like,—nothing if you have not got it,—I don't want your money, I'll get that as I now do."

She said all this in a humble way looking at me, tears half filled her eyes, her tone was sad; it was in its way a clear but simple declaration of affection for me. I saw it, felt it, but shunned it; for a strange dislike to a gay woman loving me came over me, some sort of undefined idea that I should be a species of fancy-man, a man whom I always thought at that time was a baudy house bully; and the offer of Bessie oppressed me.

I told her she was very kind, that I appreciated it, but it was a long way off,—I would not think of it,—I did not wish her to give up a friend for me,—that there were obstacles to my accepting which I could not tell her of, and so on. I scarcely knew what to say in refusing without wounding her feelings.

"I am sorry I told you, for you won't think as much of me as you did,—it's the simple truth,—you don't believe me?—only come up and see me." But I could not then think of displacing a cabman, I did not even like to think of my prick having taken its pleasure in the cunt which had wriggled the prick of a cabman. My experience in life might have told me, had I thought about it, that the possibility was that my prick might have rubbed up the same channel that a burglar's had. I only saw that I was asked to displace a common man in the affection of a street-doxy, I appreciated the affection which prompted the offer of exchange, felt gratified and sorry at the same time, especially when I saw tears in the poor woman's eyes.

I again said I would if it were not such a long way off, but perhaps I would, and so on. I never did go to her house, but saw her from time to time, until I fell madly in love with a lady of pleasure and would have given almost my life for her to have loved me. So Bessie was avenged, for I had fallen in love with a doxy after all.

When this infatuation occurred I ceased seeing Bessie. Then in my trouble a year or two afterwards I sought her again, and told her my trouble. "Ah! you would not love me when I was fond of you, but you love her, and she plays on it,—don't you let her fool you," said Bessie, "she has got a man,—all you give her he will get, I know it from what you tell me." Bessie was right, but Sarah after a time as I shall tell, did not deceive me about the matter.

Then I missed Bessie for a year or two, then found her again in the Strand, she was much altered. "I don't think I ever liked a man to fuck me as I do you," said she one night as she enjoyed me, "if you had but come up to my little home you would have saved me a lot of trouble." But I could not get out of her what she meant by that.

Full five years afterwards, when roaming about not far from the Haymarket one night I met her, and scarcely knew her. She stopped short, "You Bessie!" "Ah! yes it's Brighton Bessie, but I'm sadly altered, sure enough." "And you knew me?" "Know you!—I should know you by your eyes, if I saw nothing more of your face but your eyes,—I should know you to the last day of your life," said she. She was always talking about my eyes. She had seen me several times, but had not dared to accost me she said. I told her she always might.

I took her to what had become my favorite baudy house. It was a hot night, and we fucked on the sofa. She had become flabby, and said she had ill health, but I could glean nothing from her about her career, excepting that for some years she had not been gay. We stripped naked, and had just finished fucking her on the sofa when I felt something running over my legs, bum and back over my shoulder, on to hers. It was instantaneous. Then I saw a mouse which had run over us, and went fast up the wall into some red curtains where it was lost,—it made her shudder, and me too. That is one of the odd events by which I shall always recollect the last time I had Brighton Bessie. "You won't see me again I dare say," said she in a plaintive tone, and a tear in her eye as we parted. I said I dare say I should. "No you won't,—good bye dear." With a sigh the poor woman left me, and I never saw her again.

It was whilst I was frequenting Bessie, and occasionally other doxies that the following adventure occurred.

I was frequently now at my mother's house, my brother was away, and both my sisters married. I used to stop with her for days together, finding that a relief from home misery, and also agreeable company to her, who was now so much alone. I also at times stopped with one of my sisters whose husband I liked; the other lived some distance from London.



CHAPTER VIII.

Washerwomen.—Matilda and Esther.—A peep over a wall.— Eaves dropping.—A girl's wants.—Shaking a tooleywag.—A promenade by a barrow.—Disclosures.—A snatch and a scuffle.—An assignation.

I went to see my mother one day in Summer, and after luncheon walked to the end of the garden often mentioned. At one side of it was a road which gave access to a gentleman's house, and on the other to my mother's. There the carriage-road stopped, and a foot-path began. At the junction was a mews wide enough for a cart, which ran at the end of our garden and those adjoining. Our entrance to it had been disused, we having one in the side-wall opening on to the road, and the neighbours rarely used their back-entrances. The mews was grass-grown. On the opposite side to our garden-walls was the wall of very large grounds. A gate not locked, formed of open bars was at the end of the mews next to the road.

The footpath mentioned passed between walls of large gardens, and the between fields, until it joined a road on the other side of which was the village church-yard, through which the footway passage continued till again a high-road intervened. This continuous footway formed a short cut to a distant part of the parish. It was not much used excepting on Sundays, and by lovers who walked there on summer nights. I had found out years before that the mews at the back of our house was an occasional pissing-place, it being round the corner, and out of sight. I used to peep over the wall in hopes of seeing a female at that operation, mounting to do so by the gardener's ladder. When I saw a woman piddle it was great delight to me, but I more frequently saw men whose cocks had no attraction for me. On Sunday nights after church, the splash and rustle of petticoats could be heard, but not seen; the sight was however rare at any time, for few people had the boldness to push open the gate, and enter the mews.

I never saw copulation, the greatest fun I had was once seeing a female bogging, who turned round and gathered two or three of the largest leaves from the lime-trees in our gardens which overhung the wall, wiped her arse with them, and left them sticking on the top of her turds; but she never noticed a youth peeping just over her head. One reason why I was never detected watching was that women always turned their bums to our wall, and so I was at the back of them. Charlotte and I have both looked over the wall.

The wall was mostly covered with our ivy, which fell down in thick masses on the mews side; lime-trees at intervals completed the screen. Any one peeping down from above could be sufficiently hidden if he put his head carefully above the wall at places, and pushed aside the boughs. On the day I speak of, I walked round the garden thinking of old times, of how Charlotte and I used to see if the cook was talking to the gardener before we began our amourous play, of the pranks Fred and others played there, and all the occurrences of my youth, which had taken place in the house and garden.

The gardener was away. I thought I would look over the wall; so placing the ladder got up, and looking down saw two girls sitting on the handles of a barrow on which were baskets filled with linen. One looked about sixteen, the other a little older. It was a dreadfully hot day, the barrow was at the angle of the mews. They were talking, and I moved the ladder to get a place nearer to them and not to be seen; for to watch and hear women who thought themselves unobserved and unheard, was always a delight to me. If you ever hear two women talking on amorous subjects, their disclosures you will find are always charming to a man.

At the angle of our garden, and just where the road joined the mews, a large notice-board had been put up for some purpose since I had lived there; it was just outside and higher than our wall. Between the back of it and the wall was a space of a few inches. Our ivy had grown up it at places, and filled up most of the space, but enough was left at the angle to let me look down on the barrow which was just outside the mews-gate, out of the way of what small traffic there was, the gate of the mews being wide open. Then of all my eaves dropping I have never yet heard anything so amusing as I did then. The air was solemnly quiet in the hot summer's afternoon and though the girls spoke quite softly, I heard them well.

"I should like to feel what it is like," said the youngest whose face was towards me. There was a mixture of fun, audacity, curiosity and lewdness on that girl's face. "Hish! some one will hear you," and something else I could not hear, said the other. "Fuck—there then," said the young one saucily and laughing. The older gave her a slap. "Now you may take the things home alone,—I won't help." "If you don't I'll tell mother." "Don't care." "Yes you do,—what did you say it for?" "Didn't you say it?" "I didn't bawl it out you fool." "Fuck,—there,—there," said the younger going off. "There it may stay then," said the older angrily, and she moved also off round the corner. They were both out of sight in a second, but I heard their voices quarrelling, the barrow and clothes-baskets were unattended just outside the mews-gate.

A labouring man came along in the opposite direction. Seeing the barrow he stood and looked round in all directions, turned into the mews, and I think he was going to steal, but thought better of it. I had peeped quite round the board, but had dropped into the old place again, the man turned to the wall, and pissed just under me, his head turned, and looking at the clothes-baskets all the time, then he drew the foreskin backwards and forwards when he had finished, till his prick was standing, an article any man might have been proud of; he played with it, and might have been going to frig himself had he not been interrupted.

The girls came back round the corner just then still wrangling, they stopped as they came on the man, who turning round shook his tooleywag at them, and moved out of sight, but not out of my hearing. "This is the sort of thing that would please you," said he wagging it. "Go along you beast, I'll call a policeman." "You wouldn't call out if it was up your cunt,"—and he walked off laughing. The girls were quiet for an instant, and then laughed. "Hish!" said one, "he is not gone." The other looked round the corner, and said he had; then they laughed loudly.

"Was it not big!" "Did you see it?" "Yes, and stiff,—ha—ha—ha." "He—he—he." "It looked as if it would split any one," said the little one who sat down on the barrow-handle again. "Sarah says the bigger it is the better it is," said the other, and then they laughed. "Hush!" said the bigger one, "some one may hear us." Turning her rump to the wall she pissed just where the man had. The little one did the same, then off they went, one trundling, the other holding the baskets steady. They took the heavy work in turns I found.

I rushed to the house, then out, and followed the girls, a desire to show them my prick was on me. As I followed my intentions cooled, fearing they might tell a policeman. I had not the experience then that I now have, or should have feared nothing of the sort, for girls tell no one but each other if they see a man's prick. I overtook them in the church-yard (they were resting again on the barrow-handles), and entered into conversation with them, delighted at their demure faces, knowing that they had just seen a prick, that one had said "fuck," and that I had seen both piss. A notion of getting the younger one by herself restrained me from blurting out what was in my mind, but my delight really was in looking at, and talking with them, thinking that fucking might and probably was in their mind at the moment I accosted them.

They were coarse, middle-sized, well-fed, sturdy-limbed, dark-eyed wenches, unmistakeably sisters. Excepting for one being shorter than the other you would scarcely have known there was a difference in their ages; both had bare arms, one had her frock well pinned up behind over her petticoats, both had short petticoats, thick ankles and strong boots, a washerwoman was then not ashamed of showing what she was, and they always wore dazzling white stockings,—and these girls did. I asked where they lived, they answered readily. I knew the lane well, all the washerwomen in the village were there.

In my lewdness I forgot everything but the pleasure of speaking to the girls. A middle-aged lady passed us accompanied by two or three very young women, who stared hard at me. The barrow-girls stood up and curtsied as they passed, and naming them. I knew them, and a few years before had romped and played with the young ladies, then children. The last time I had seen them there was not a hair on any one of their cunts; I expect that now their cunts were full-wigged, and well frigged into the bargain. They had recognized me, as I heard from my mother afterwards, I did not recognize them, they having grown from children to women. I was seated on the barrow-handle as they passed.

"So you wash?" No, their mother did, they ironed, took home, and fetched the things. What was their name?—would they meet me? and so on. They would perhaps,—where did I live?—they did not know me. Getting friendlier and friendlier I learned all about them, it was done in a joking, chaffing way. I told them I lived far off, and was only on a visit at a house close by.

They must go on really,—would I get up? No, unless they gave me a kiss. I chivied one after the other, and caught and kissed both, they were not difficult to catch. Then they trundled on the barrow, I walking with them, the people we met (very few) staring at a dandy walking by the side of two washgirls; but I took no heed then of any one who passed us, nor cared.

We crossed the high-road into another part of the lane, and again we stopped; more and more randy got I. "What do you think of, when you iron the tail of a man's shirt?" "Nothing." "You know it wraps round something different from that which a chemise does." "Does it?" said the little one who had twice the cheek of the elder. "Yes,—it makes you think when you iron them." No it did not,—what did I mean?—they did not know in the least.

(What delight some girls have in their randiness in declaring they don't understand a man's baudy chaff, the "What do you mean?" "I don't understand" are only incitements to the man to declare his meaning in broad, strong, baudy words; and then it's, "Oh! oh! the beast!" but their cunts tighten with a squeeze of lust, they go off and think of it all, and perhaps frig themselves under the recollection. But this is a reflection the result of matured experience, and was not written at the time this part of my narrative was.)

They turned up the high-road, and at their earnest request I fell behind, they left the linen at a house, and brought back other baskets, then I recommenced chaffing. When we were in the lane bounded on one side by a wall, on the other by a ditch and corn-field. They stopped and begged me to go, for so many people knew them on the road. Prudence told me we had better separate, but my mind full of the idea of getting the younger girl, I asked them to have a drink. No,—they would be seen. Would they meet me? Yes. When? They could not say,—but I had their address.

I am not clear why, but up till then I had not said what I had heard and seen, but I kept it to myself, although dying to let it out. I again sat at the edge of the barrow, and refused to get up till they both kissed me. They could not go without the barrow, and after a little sham I kissed them both. Then the devil took all control off of me, and as I kissed one I felt outside her till she wriggled away from me. This in the open lane.

"Now," said she, "Mr. Impudence, I've a good mind to slap your head for doing of that." "I'm sure you liked it,"—and I went towards her. She ran ahead, and took up a stone. "I'll heave this at you," said she looking as if she meant it. I desisted, and went back to the barrow, "What's he done?" said the sister who had been standing a little distance off. "I'll tell you bye and bye,—come on." The younger began to handle the barrow, but I sat down on a handle, some one came along. "You will do us harm," said one of the girls.

"Tell your sister what I did." "Shan't,—get up." I then, forgetful of my intention, blurted all out, imitating their voice and manner. "Fuck,—hish! some one will hear,"—a slap. "Fuck,—there then."

The younger stood like a statue, her mouth opened wide, her lower jaw almost seemed dropping off; the elder stared at me, her eyes nearly out of her head. "Sarah says the bigger it is the better she likes it." Their faces got blood-red, they stared at each other, then one said, "I wish you'd get up, and let me have my barrow."

"I saw you both piddle," then I looked up and down the lane in both directions, I was bursting. "Look," said I pulling out my prick, "it's as thick and stiff as his, isn't it?" No one was in sight still.

"I wish there was a policeman," said the elder, "oh! you beast,—we'll tell the police." One appeared just then in the lane, but the girls appeared to be in no hurry to tell him, but I rose, they wheeled off the barrow as fast as they could, I walking with them. I was a little afraid of the policeman.

We had got to a spot where the lane was crossed by a village-road in which were many good houses. "Oh! pray leave us, we go down here, we have customers in the road." "Will you meet me?" "Yes,—but don't follow us." I did not want to be seen, so we parted, after some arrangements about meeting.



CHAPTER IX.

Returning home.—In the church-yard.—Two female laborers.— Among the tombs.—A sudden piss.—An arse on the weeds.— Torn trowsers, and a turd.—In front of the public-house.

They went off, I crossed the road into the churchyard, through its posts at the entrance to prevent cattle passing, and over which with difficulty the girls had got their barrow and baskets. It was a huge churchyard, half of it mere field; at one end the rich were buried, and there were rows of tombs and monuments, the rest was only partially filled with tomb-stones of all sizes. As I entered it two women passed me; they were tall, stout, and dusty, had very short petticoats, and thick hob-nailed boots, dark-blue dresses hung over big haunches, little black shawls no larger than handkerchiefs over their backs. They had big black bonnets cocked right upon the tops of their heads, and seemed women who worked out of doors, agricultural laborers perhaps, or perhaps the wives of bargemen, for there was a canal through the village. They had the strong steady walk, and the body well balanced from the hips that you see in woman engaged in outdoor occupations; perhaps they carried strawberries to the London markets in large baskets on their heads, and they walked as firmly as soldiers.

They went past me towards the monuments, both looked at me, and they quickened their pace as they went off. I was dying with want of a fuck. "They are going to piss," I thought. I knew the spot. We when boys, and I when a youth years before, had laid in wait to see nursemaids and their little charges turn up among the tombs to ease themselves, so I stopped and looked after them.

They heard my footsteps cease, turned round, looked at me, and walked on again. I followed slowly, they walked slower, so did I; they stopped, so did I; one turned round. "Well young man, what do you want following us?" This abashed me for the instant, but my prick standing gave me confidence.

"You are going to piddle, and so am I." They burst out laughing, then checked themselves, and one said, "Well I'm blessed if you ain't well cheeked young man." "Arn't you?" "It's no business of yourn what we're a going to do,—go your way, and we'll go ours." "I'll piddle by the side of you,—I like doing it where a woman does it," I replied. I was baudily reckless now.

"I'm damned!—did you ever hear such cheek!—go on young man,—or let us." On they went, I followed; they stopped, so did I; they muttered together half-laughing, and turning their heads round every minute,—and I went on chaffing about piddling.

They had got to a spot where there was a break in the row of tombs, and a length of turf with grass a foot high, burnt up, and almost made hay in the sum-mer sun. "I'd give each of you a shilling to piss before me", said I. They had turned into this cross-passage between the tombs, and one could see them from the footpath through the church-yard.

"Oh! Lord," said one before I had got the words out of my mouth, "I can't wait",—and squatting she began pissing whilst I made my offer, and laughing said, "Well if ever I heard the like,—well young man, give it,—I'll never be paid again for getting rid of my water, I'll bet,—you do it Sarah." Sarah said, "I shan't." "Don't be a fool, take his bob." The other looked at me, the splash of the other woman's piddle fell on her ear. When any one wants to piss, and hears another doing it, the desire to piss becomes strong. Down Sarah squatted laughing, and her splash began, before the other had finished pissing.

I wanted to piss, but the rigidity of my prick prevented me; it wanted to evacuate its sperm before it got rid of the thinner liquid. I pulled it out in front of their faces as they squatted side by side, stiff and red-tipped; it throbbed, and knocked up and down in its randiness under every effort I made to turn on the water. One said I was a blackguard. "I want a fuck so bad,—let me have you,—I'll give you five shillings." To which of the two I don't know, for I had no choice, one cunt was as good as another to me at that moment, and I pushed my prick towards one of them, who laughing put it aside with her hand.

"There is a chance for you," said one to the other (they were both up then). "What do you take me for young man?" said the other, "if my man were here he'd knock your bloody head off." But both stood looking at my prick and me. I kept on asking, and offering the money,—no one would see us,—one could watch,—and so on.

"Do you live about here?" said one. "No, I am going to see a friend at ———" (naming a place about two miles off.) "Weren't you never up here before?" "Never in my life,—here is your shilling,"—and I gave it her. "Here is yours." She would not take it. "Take it Molly." She took it. "Oh! let me have you," said I selecting that one now for my addresses.

"This is a bloody lark," said she, "what do you take us for young man?" "Let me fuck you." Both stood still looking at me and my prick. "Some one will catch us," said one moving out from the tombs, and looking up and down the pathway to see if any one was near, and then came back. I had got close to the other. "Now Molly," said one anxiously, "what are you about?" "Oh! he's made me all overish." "Well if you'd been three months away from your old man as I have, there would be some excuse." "Never mind,—you won't blab,—you stand there, and call if you see any one." "The grave-digger will catch you." "No I saw him right over by the church." "Come away." "No,—you go and watch." And so we talked for a few seconds, but I never put my prick out of sight.

"Well," said the other moving out of sight into the narrow path between the monuments, "you'll get into a mess." "No I shan't,—I'll let him for the lark of the thing."

The instant she had gone round the corner the selected one laid hold of my prick. "Do it quick,—some one may come," said she as she grasped it. "Lie down". "No I won't,—it's dirty." "No it's dry,—the grass is quite hay." I stripped off my coat, made it into a bundle, and placed it for her head. "There,—there," I said, and pulled her down. She made no resistance. I saw white thighs and belly, black hair on her cunt; and the next minute I was spending up her.

"Shove on," said she, "I was just coming,"—and she was wriggling and heaving, "go on." I could always go on pushing after a spend in those days, my prick would not lose its stiffness for minutes afterwards; so I pushed till I thought of doing her a second time; but her pleasure came on, her cunt contracted, and with the usual wriggle and sigh she was over, and there were we laying in copulation, with the dead all around us; another living creature might that moment have been begotten, in its turn to eat, drink, fuck, die, be buried and rot. Suddenly she jerked up her arse, and pushed me.

"Oh!" said she uncunting me, "there is some one,"—and up she jumped. There stood the other woman. "How you frightened me," said she. "There was no one coming,—well it's a rum afternoon's job this," said she. "Don't you blab." "Not I."

I had hidden my prick, but now my bladder insisted on its requirements being attended to, and I went to the spot which the two ladies had moistened, and pissed on it. The woman who had watched us fucking had dark eyes, she had looked at me without ceasing from the time I had got off from the other, and began pissing. My prick nearly at fucking size still, was pouring forth a copious stream whilst I was feeling its stem which the moisture from the other's cunt had saturated. Seeing her looking I pulled out balls and all, and finished by shaking my tooleywag. She laughed a low laugh. "I feel all overish myself now." Her eyes looked like fire at me, fierce, lewd. "I'll give you five shillings,—let me fuck you too,—she will wait and watch for us."

"Oh!—o!" said the one whom I just had fucked, twitching about, and suddenly pulling up her petticoats, and looking up them, "there is something crawling up me." She felt up her petticoats, shaking them, and flourishing them about. "Oh!—oh!—just lift them up, and look Sarah."

Her companion lifted her clothes. "Go away young man, you've had your game I think." "Oh! not there,—oh! it's biting." "Don't make that noise." "Oh! it's here,—there,—just there." Slowly the companion lifted the petticoats, first one side, then the other, showing thighs and rump, and a great ugly crawling black thing dropped; it had crawled up her petticoats whilst she was lying on the ground. I had drawn near, and was gloating over the display of charms. "Ain't he had a treat Molly!" said she.

This sight finished me by making me as stiff as I had been five minutes before; the other one still kept looking at me. "I'll give you five shillings," said I. "I've a good mind" said she. "Lor let him,—who'll know?" "How stiff it is!" "Let him." "Feel it," said I. The woman put her hand on it. "I'll go and watch," said the other moving away. "I shan't." "Don't be a fool,"—and she moved out of sight, leaving us two alone.

Not a word more was said, I pushed her up against the upright railings enclosing a monument; a slight stone-lodge going all round the monument put her about an inch above me, I lifted her clothes, for an instant only saw another dark-haired cunt, and drove my prick up it. She felt pleasure the very first shove that I gave her. "Oh!—oh!—did she do it with you?—did she spend?" she gasped in whispers, looking me full in the face. "Yes she spent."

That fetched her. "Oh! I'm coming,—oh! it's a coming," she gasped, and laid her head over my shoulder. I felt her bum and belly wagging, and a perfect torrent of cunt-liquor ran down on to my balls. I had not long began my fuck, so was slower than with the first woman, and had fetched her a second time before I had finished her standing up against the railings. Then we stood, pressing our bellies together, keeping our genitals coupled, and looking in each other's faces without speaking, one or two minutes.

"You don't know these parts?" said she whilst we still were coupled. "I've never been here in my life before," I replied. "How hard your bum is,—are you married?" "Yes." "Is she?" "No,—let me go, she is coming." Down flopped my tool, and down fell her petticoats.

The first-fucked came round the corner, then we talked. I had given the first woman her five shillings directly after I had done her, and before she found the reptile in her petticoats; I forgot to pay the other. "Well young man, you've made a pair of us go crooked," said one. "Aye that he have,—we've played high jinks." "Give us a kiss," said one. I kissed them both, and off they walked. "Hulloh!" said I, "I forgot the five shillings." "Lord so had I," said my creditor,—and I gave it her.

"Don't come our way, the grave-digger knows us,—go straight across there, and round the church." I watched them going along with their steady step; who could have known from their look and manner, that both had just been fucked! Who can tell the state of any woman's cunt, whom you may meet anywhere!

I went to my mother's, the hair on my prick was gummed flat on my belly and balls, I found I had torn a hole in the knee of my trowsers, and a lump of turd was sticking to my coat, that I had made her a pillow with, the ground must have been hard and flinty, and some one had shit in the high grass.

What were the women?—certainly not gay. Did they fuck with me for fun, for letch, or for money? I often have thought of it, and came to the conclusion that both were lewd, that my baudy suggestions made them worse, my prick upset them, and the money finished it; but that wanting a fuck was the main cause; that one whose old man had been away three months, how she looked at me and at my doodle, after I had fucked the first one!

Towards dusk I went to meet my washerwomen. Near the corner of the lane in which they lived was an old-fashioned public-house well back from the road, in front of it were two large elm-trees, beneath them seats where poor people sat drinking and enjoying themselves in Summer. I stopped and looked. Quite at the back sat the two women whom I had fucked; they had pewter pots in front of them, and recognized me at once. Both got up, and rushed inside the public-house rapidly. Funk was on their faces, they seemed to struggle who should get inside the door first. I never saw them afterwards, but at the sight of them my cock stood rigidly, and I would have had them again had it been possible. Many a time since I have been to that churchyard to look at the place among the tombs where we three had our pleasures, and my prick always stiffened when I was there. Such impromptu copulations have a wonderful charm.



CHAPTER X.

The washerwoman's lane.—An intention frustrated.—A slap in the face.—Choice language and temper.—A dinner in the Haymarket.—The rocking-chair.—A lucky shove.—Up, and out in a second.—A quarrel, and flight.—An enticing laugh.— The house in O... d. Street.

Down the lane was the washerwoman's cottage, it had a little garden in front of it. Through the window I saw the girls ironing by candle-light, I walked about till quite dark, then knocked at the door. The short one opened it, and seeing me shut the door saying, "Oh! you musn't call." So I went away.

Then I wrote asking them to meet me, and got no reply; but I persevered. I was constantly thinking of the girls' baudy talk when sitting on the barrow. I went to the house again, after writing to say when I would be at the end of the lane, and found them standing there,—by accident they said, they declared they had not had my letter. That was a lie I knew. I began smutty talk, which they cut short by both going to their cottage.

I wrote letters to the short one again, asking her to meet me, but nothing came of that. At the end of their lane were market-gardens, I saw Esther one evening at that end which joined the high-road, and was close to the public-house where I had seen the women sitting whom I had poked in the village church-yard. It was dark. I asked her to come for a walk, she promised in a few minutes to come to me by the market-garden. "If I don't," said she, "it will be because mother is at the door." But she came.

I swore I was in love with her, which was true to the extent of her cunt, and wanted her to meet me elsewhere,—we would dine, and go to the theatre together. No she could not be out late without a row. I kissed her, which she took to in the darkness kindly enough. I whispered, "I should like to fuck." "If you say that again," said she, "I'll slap your chops." I did, and she gave me a slap in the face, and ran off. I was hurt, and so annoyed, that I did not follow her, but bawled out, "You'll split your cunt into your arse-hole if you run like that." Directly afterwards a voice like as of an oldish female in the darkness said, "Get along you drunken blackguard, the likes of you ought to be locked up." Insulting the girl by foul-mouthed remarks had not improved I feared my chance of broaching her, and for a while I desisted.

But the letch was strong on me, I went to stay with my mother to be nearer my game, and passed my time in playing billiards at the public-house, and nightly I hunted the girl; so that at length under promise to take her to Vauxhall she agreed to come and dine with me, or as she said, have supper at eight o'clock with me. I usually then went to Vauxhall at ten o'clock.

I went to a French restaurant in the Haymarket, ordered a sitting and bed-room, and a good supper. Thought I, "With a feast and champagne with you by myself for a couple of hours, my cock and your cunt will make acquaintance."

To my annoyance she came with her sister. "I could not stop out late without her," said she. I made the best of it, though very angry on the quiet at seeing my game baulked.

"I'll kiss you at once because you have brought your sister unasked, and you Matilda because you came unasked,"—and I kissed both to my heart's content. They liked it. They were dressed in the vulgarest style of their class, and I felt ashamed of going to Vauxhall with them,—and did not they gorge! Champagne they had never tasted before and they lapped it up like milk. "It gets into your head, don't it?" said one. "No my dear, champagne gets into your tail,—you'll want to piddle soon." "Oh! for shame!" "Never mind there are plenty of chamber-pots in the bed-room." "If you talk that way we'll go," said they laughing, but we went on talking and drinking.

Supper over, the waiter out of the room, both girls half-screwed, half-screwed myself and wholly lewd, they both came and sat by me on the sofa. Sisters again,—what fatality!

The conversation was soon suggestive. Which did they like best, washing a shirt or a chemise? They let out, checked themselves, checked each other. "Lord Esther what are you saying?" "Well Matilda I'm ashamed of you." "Well that's pretty conversation for a gentleman,—let's go,—promise you won't say anything like it again." "I won't,—but tell me one thing,—how did you feel Esther, when you sat on the barrow and said, 'fuck'?" "You're a blackguard, I never said anything of the sort,—did I Matilda?" "We'll go if you keep on so."

Matilda got jealous. "It's my turn now," said she after I had been kissing Esther. The wine got more into all our heads, and we laughed and shouted. "Why did you come Matilda?" "Mother don't let Esther out alone,—besides I didn't know what you two might be up to alone." "What did you think we might be up to?" "Oh! that's tellings." This talk went on for a time, gradually getting warmer and more suggestive; all were thinking about fucking, though no one said so.

By the sofa was an American rocking-chair, the first I ever recollect having seen. Matilda began rocking herself in it, I rocked the chair violently for her and then as far as it would go, back and held it there, then rapidly I pushed one hand up her petticoats. Her legs were distended somewhat as legs usually are when people are rocking, and my fingers went on to her cunt. She lay back for the moment, helpless, then managed to close her legs, but being almost on her back she could not get free; she struggled to get up, and yelled out, "Oh! pull him off Esther,—-don't you beast."

Esther was on the sofa. She got up, pulled me back, and the chair came forwards, but not till I had lifted Matilda's clothes far above her knees. She sulked, my blood was up, and pulling Esther down on the sofa kissing her, I pushed my hand up her clothes, and on to her cunt. She screeched, then Matilda pulled me away. There had been much laughing and yelling, but now they sulked. "We will go," said they. "I've felt both your cunts," said I.

Their bonnets were in the bed-room, and I would not let them get them, put both fingers to my mouth, and kissed them saying, "That's touched your cunt Matilda, that's touched yours Esther." Then I pulled out my prick, and putting both fingers on it's tip said, "That's nearly the same as if my prick had touched your cunt.

"Call the waiter Esther," said Matilda angrily. I had gone too far, so I desisted, begged pardon, promised never to do it again, to give them both new bonnets, and I dare say anything else, and they sat down, but for a long time sulking, and almost silent.

But my humility and regrets overcame them, there was more chatting, more laughing, more champagne. I got smutty again and now, they laughed at it. "What nice legs, and what beautiful white linen you have Matilda." "Mine is as white," said Esther. "Your legs are not as plump." "Yes they are." I pinched their arms, then their legs, we all kissed, they were both as randy as the devil, and incited me to smutty talk, though affecting not to understand me. Then the champagne overcame us all.

"You want to piddle?" "Ooh!—oh! no." "Really? then you want to see if your bonnets are all right, that's all,—I want to piddle though." Saying that I went into the bed-room, pissed, and came back, taking the key out of the door. Laughing the girls then went into the bed-room, and closed the door. They were very noisy, and groggy, the eldest worse than the other.

I listened at the door. "Lock the door Ess." "There's no key." "Stand there, and hold it,—I'm bursting." "Don't he go on!—make haste, or I'll pee myself." I pushed open the door suddenly, one was pushing her clothes against her quim to dry it, the other on the pot, she let a loud fart just as I opened the door. "Oh!" said she rising with difficulty. "I'll wait till the music is over," said I going out,—but I returned the next minute, and pulled out my prick again. "I'll fuck you both," said I, and tried to put my hands up their clothes; when I got one the other pulled me off, then I turned to her, and so on. We upset chairs, we shreiked with laughter, it was Bedlam broke loose. I caught Matilda, and threw her on her back on the bed. "Leave off now,—pull him away Essie,—you're a going on too far,—oh! don't tickle,—oh! I can't bear tickling." But I kept on.

The tickling made her screech. I threw up her clothes, for she was still on her back on the bed, I didn't see her cunt, for I was between her legs, and bent over her, lifted her legs, and pressed hard down on her belly, her clothes on it which met mine, I gave a shove, having no thought of doing anything but lewd mimickry of the act of copulation, whilst Esther was tugging at my coat. Matilda shrieked, for my prick went up her cunt, and out again before I knew where it was,—another furious shriek. Frightened I had let go of her, she rolled off the bed, and sat on the chair maudlin, and crying.

"What's the matter?" said Esther, "what's he done?" "Oh!" sobbed Matilda, "where's my bonnet?—let's go,—I will go." "Stay,—be quiet." "I won't,—I will go." The waiter just then came into the room begging us not to make so much noise, as people were noticing it. Matilda crying and angry, Esther questioning, Matilda telling Esther to put on her things, or she would go without her, whilst there stood the French waiter and a chamber-maid, wondering what the row was all about,—if they had not heard, and did not guess it.

The girls were frightened, and I could not stop them. They had their things on, and were out of the house in a few minutes, I went down with them saying we would go to Vauxhall. The landlord stopped me. "Your bill sir." I paid it, and when I got out could see the two girls nowhere. I took a cab, drove here, there, and everywhere, but they were gone.

I came back towards the Haymarket, took the first woman I met, and went to a house in C... d. n Street. Half-an-hour afterwards I went with another; whilst with her I heard a merry-voiced woman in an adjoining room, and without seeing her took a fancy to her. I dismissed my second woman after fucking her, and enquired of the servant how long the lady who was laughing had been in the adjoining room. She knew nothing, so I waited door ajar, till I saw the woman leave, followed, and brought her back, fucked her, and had not enough money to pay for riding home.

The more I think of that adventure the more extraordinary it seems; from the time I threw Matilda on to the bed, till my prick had entered her cunt, and got out again, I don't believe it could have occupied more than a few seconds. She was heavy, I only just could lift her, and her petticoats seemed but half-way up. She laughed loudly as I did so, and when I leant over her with my prick out, I had not the remotest idea of broaching her, nor that my prick might touch even her thighs; but she must have been in the exact position, and her struggles brought her notch down to the level, and my prick by mere chance drove a little way up the hole; then her bum-wriggle threw me out instantly, and her yell frightened me. Whether she was a virgin or not, or whether I hurt her or not, I cannot say; could not even swear that my prick had entered her cunt, but it felt like it; and why did she yell, then sulk, and go away in a temper, if I had not somehow touched that slippery orifice?



CHAPTER XL.

Esther meets me.—Vauxhall.—Ex-harlot Sarah.—Esther succumbs.—Big-arsed and bandy-legged.—Periodic fucking.— Matilda invincible.—I part with Esther.—Her fortune.

I wrote to Esther, who met me in the lane, she was in her airs. I had quite forgotten myself she said, and had made them both drunk purposely,—it was not like a gentleman,—I had acted very improper; she would not recollect where my hand had been did not believe I had felt her thighs, she was tipsy. That was the line the cunning jade took in a dark lane. "Now don't be foolish, and run away when I tell you." "Well I won't." Then I said something suggestive, and she got cosy with me. "What was it you really did to Tilda?" "Nothing." "You did." "Ask her," "She won't tell me, and she will never speak with you again." Truthfully or not Esther declared she did not know what I had done to make her sister holler out so.

"I'll give you a bonnet, and we will go to Vauxhall,—don't let your sister know." I gave her the money, she agreed to meet me again, and did, and again asked me what I had done to her sister. I would tell some night when I slept with her. Then she would never know, for she would never be in bed with me, or any one else, till she was married.

I progressed in the usual way, praised her big bum, guessed she had fat thighs, etc. "You know I did feel them." No, she did not recollect. After talking thus one night my prick was in stiffish form, and I put her hand round it. She laid hold of it innocently, then snatched her hand away violently. Then I did the old, old trick, promised a pair of garters, if she would let me put them on,—in the dark of course. "No,—no." "So help me God, I won't do more than put them on." Two minutes after that my finger was on her split. This was all in the dark lane.

I wonder what a girl of that class thinks of, hopes, expects when she meets a gentleman on the sly. Does she expect he will fall in love, and marry her?—does she know that he wants to fuck her?—does she like to meet a man who has that intention, and long to hear smutty suggestions, and baudy talk?—does she like the lustful feeling creeping over her, as she stands by a randy man who is making lewd remarks? I imagine that like the man, she is randy and wants to hear his baudy talk, to feel his lips on hers, to hug him, to feel his hand wandering about her hidden parts, that she meets him really for that purpose, just as much as he meets her for the purpose. But they differ in this: he means to get her if possible; she has made up her mind that whatever she may permit, he shan't fuck her,—but she generally makes a mistake in that.

We went to Vauxhall, she told her mother she was going to the theatre with Sarah and her husband (the woman who had said the bigger it was the nicer it was), I was to take her to Sarah's when Vauxhall was over. I gave her a lobster and champagne supper, she got spoony, I talked baudy, she said it was abominable, this was all the Gardens. At length her modesty broke. "Don't you want to piddle?" "I really do bad," said she without hesitation. I took her to the ladies' place, and soon we left. There were nice little houses not far from Vauxhall. I had been in the afternoon, and paid for a room for the night to be sure of it, and took her there. She would not go in till I said it was only to have another glass of wine; but I believe she guessed what she was going in for. Then I persuaded her to stop all night, the woman of the house was to call us at six o'clock, so that she might get home early. She had made up her mind to consent, and had no sham about it. I undressed her, tore my own things off, threw myself on her, and with the first shove or two had finished her virginity,—my prick went up with little difficulty.

We fucked all night, I revelled in her cunt. She was healthy, full-blooded, randy-arsed, and spent like fun; we did it several times before sleeping, then in the night, and awakened about eleven o'clock next day. "Oh! my God," said she, "what will mother say,—I'm ruined." "Well it's no use crying, you are in for it." A few tears, then a fuck, a piddle, a wash,—and then refreshed we go through the ceremony, of inspecting privates, and so fucking, looking, smelling, frigging, and finger-stinking we lay till devilish hungry. Then we got up, and after going to a chop-house and having food, I put her into a cab to go home. I enjoyed myself much that night, a fresh cunt is always charming, and there is such delight in killing modesty in a woman who has never been fucked before; the struggle to get her to open her thighs to let you see her cunt is in itself a delicious treat.

On the bed spunk lay in all directions, and over her chemise as well, and there was the least smear of blood. I had pushed through something tight to get into her, but it was an easy business, so easy that I thought she had had cock before; but she was large cunted, the very jagged, ragged tear was full size; her cunt-hair was dark, her bum was one of the biggest for her height I have seen, it was out of proportion. Her privates did not fascinate me, and when I had had her two or three dozen times I grew tired of her. She was also bandy-legged, a thing I never could bear in a woman.

She went to Sarah's that day, and remained there, her mother sent to know why. Sarah said that Esther had had bowel attack after they came home from the theatre, and her mother then went to see her. A girl always looks ill after her first poking, and Esther had been fucked out, so her mother was taken in. Her sister Matilda said she did not believe it.

Sarah I found had been gay, and said she now was married; they did not believe that, though they kept their disbelief to themselves, and only Esther knew she had been gay, although all knew she had run away from home. Sarah got her living by washing for Esther's mother. I heard some funny things about her afterwards.

I could not get Esther to stop out again all night, but she met me often enough, and became a baudy little bitch whose cunt much wanted feeding. She told me the awful state of mind she and her sister were in at my first overhearing them with the barrow; they had been talking of fucking all that day, Sarah had begun it. Taking hold of some linen, "Oh! my," she said, "look here, ain't they been a doing it!—-here is waste." There was spunk on the linen. I heard a good deal of choice washerwoman's talk from Esther afterwards, and found that it was not an unusual thing for laundresses to joke about the semen they found on the linen of their customers, and that if they found suspicious signs on the man's linen, to give the lady of the house a hint to look after her husband. Many a husband has I am sure been discovered to have had illicit pleasure, or to have the ladies' favor through the hints of an officious laundress.

I made Esther liberal presents, but didn't take her much to Vauxhall or theatres, although she was constantly asking me to do so. I had taken her to Vauxhall one night after I had first had her, and saw some one there whom I should have been sorry to have seen me with Esther. We went to the little snug, quiet accommodation house which had been the scene of the slaughter of her virginity, and there fucked; sometimes we walked instead of riding home, and when near the village, turning down a secluded street, or lane, I set her back up against a fence, and had her; then with her cunt buttered home she went alone. I took her once or twice to the theatre, and for fear of being seen had a box; but I could not afford those extravagances. Although not a bad-looking girl, and one who would stir up sensations in a man's ballocks when he looked at her, she was vulgar in appearance; and neither bonnets nor dress made any improvement in her,—she was a washerwoman all over.